The Trial of Leon
by 1337guitarist
Summary: Upon returning to the United States after rescuing Ashley, Leon is sent on trial! Will he be convicted as a criminal, or will he walk away free? More importantly, who's behind it all? My first Oneshot!


**Leon's Trial**

By: OrangeKat

Agent Leon Scott Kennedy slumped against the wall of the courtroom lobby and let out a deep sigh, his eyes closing as he reflected on everything that had happened to him. He should have been fervently welcomed back to the United States and reveled as a hero, but we don't always get what we deserve in this world.

Leon had been sent to Europe to search for the President's daughter, Ashley, who had been allegedly kidnapped. Single handedly, he fought the parasite-controlled puppets of a cult group known as the Los Illuminados, defeated their leader, Lord Saddler, returned Ashley home, and ultimately saved the world from complete unconditional domination by a madman. Even for his standards, that was quite an impressive achievement.

But now, here he was, fresh upon his arrival back to his beloved country, and he had been put on trial. He had barely dismounted from the rescue chopper when the police arrived, slapped on the handcuffs, and informed him of his Miranda Rights. Leon had absolutely no idea why his was to be put on trial, especially after all he had been through, and was indeed puzzled. Opening his eyes, he scanned the room he inhabited, pushing his dirty-blond hair out of his eyes. The lobby was completely empty. At this time, people were entering the courtroom and preparations were being made.

Leon's head snapped around and faced the courtroom door, for it made a creaking sound as it was being opened. A short, pudgy young man with sandy-blond hair entered the room. He waddled over to Leon and made eye contact, his face a display of quiet smugness that Leon didn't like at all.

"Leon Kennedy," the man stated, looking Leon up and down. "It's been quite some time. I don't suppose you remember me, but I remember you clearly..."

Leon's mind began racing as he tried to recognize the fat man's features. Straight blond hair, blue eyes, annoyingly boyish face... suddenly, it hit Leon like a train.

"Bernie... Bernie Snoogleheimer, from fourth grade?" Leon asked incredulously.

"Very good, very good, Leon," Bernie said, his face unsmiling.

Bernie was one of the most picked on kids that Leon knew growing up. He was the kid that even the _nerds _would give wedgies. Leon was no exception in the bullying, and in fact, he probably picked on Bernie more than any kid he knew. Memories of pushing Bernie into puddles, giving him "wet Willies", and just pushing him around rushed back to Leon in a flurry.

"So you're a murderer now, huh, Leon?" Bernie asked Leon viciously. "Picking on small, weak and socially retarded children must get old, doesn't it?"

"What are you talking about?" Leon questioned, the confusion of his situation returning to him.

"Never mind, you'll see soon enough," replied Bernie, turning from Leon and starting towards the door. He stopped in front of the door, and turned to face Leon again.

"One thing's for certain though," he growled, fixing his eyes on Leon's. "You'll be sorry you ever messed with me. Evil beasts like you can't _ever_ elude the iron grip of justice."

Having said that, Bernie Snoogleheimer angrily marched out the door back into the courtroom, leaving Leon in a state of bewilderment. He was being charged for murder? Questions raced through his subconscious at a brilliant speed. Who accused him of killing someone? Was he going to be present at today's trial? Would they be serving cookies and milk afterwards? Leon was brought out of his thoughts by the door opening once again. A stocky security guard sauntered through and approached Leon.

"Let's go," the guard instructed. "The judge is ready."

Leon followed the security guard through the door and into the crowded courtroom. There wasn't a seat in the courtroom that wasn't occupied. The room was filled with a jubilant chattering of voices from hundreds of people. Leon scanned the crowd, searching for any familiar faces. His eyes suddenly caught Ashley's. She was sitting next to her father, who was surrounded by nosy paparazzi, doing his best to ignore them. She regarded him with a curious and worried look, and her eyes seemed to say, "what the heck is going on?" It was a question that nagged on his mind as well.

The security guard led him to the defendant's table and indicated for him to sit down. Leon obliged, and sat next down to his attorney. The middle aged lawyer smiled happily when he saw Leon.

"Hello, fellow humanoid!" he said cheerfully. "My name is Arnold Schwitz. I'm your state-appointed public defender."

Arnold held out his hand, and Leon shook it. Leon sank into his chair, waiting for the trial to begin. He was still concerned about why he was being questioned. He hadn't killed anyone. Well, at least, not anybody _human_. Leon sat up straight as the judge addressed the court and slammed the hammer down. The conversing voices in the courtroom stopped instantly, and everyone's eyes fixed either on the judge or Leon.

"Order! Order in this courtroom!" the judge barked. The judge was middle aged, with a receding hairline. His black hair was slicked across his head. He clared his throat, fixed his eyes on Leon, and spoke. "Leon Scott Kennedy, please approach the witness box."

Leon experienced a fierce wave of nervousness as he stood up and made his way to the clerk. He still felt like he did nothing wrong, and didn't want to be in any sort of trouble. He stood in front of the witness box, and was approached by the clerk.

"Raise your right hand," the clerk ordered. Leon did so, and the clerk continued. "Place your left hand here," he said, holding out a copy of the book entitled _Justice for Dummies_. Leon placed his hand on the book, and looked the clerk in the eyes.

"Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, under the pain and penalty of perjury?" the clerk asked, spraying spit on Leon's face saying the last five words.

"Positively," said Leon, spitting back into the clerk's face. The clerk drew back and wiped his face, giving Leon a look of utmost despise that send an icy shiver down Leon's spine.

"Take the stand," ordered the judge. Leon stared at the judge in a state of total bewilderment as he tried to make sense of his words. _What the heck does "take the stand" mean? _he thought to himself. The judge noticed Leon was still standing, and sighed, indicating the chair at the witness box.

"Please sit down," he snapped impatiently. Leon nodded and consented, feeling rather ridiculous, as a result of several of the people in the courtroom snickering quietly.

"Now, then," the prosecutor began, approaching the witness box. "Leon Kennedy, Bernie Snoogleheimer has accused you of murder of multiple people in Europe. How do you plead?"

Leon couldn't believe what he just heard. Bernie Snoogleheimer was the reason of this whole trial? Was he so immature about the whole bullying thing he had gone to this extreme of lengths to exact his revenge? Leon glanced over at Bernie, who was sitting at the table on the other side of the courtroom, wearing an arrogant, smug grin that Leon had a very difficult time tolerating. In that moment, Leon hated nobody as much as Bernie Snoogleheimer. He glanced at his attorney's closed briefcase, and fixed his eyes back onto Bernie. He would have dearly loved to wipe Bernie's expression off with a decisive bash to the face with the briefcase, but decided against it, coming to the conclusion that it wouldn't help his case very much.

"_How do you plead?"_ the prosecutor repeated, clearly growing impatient.

Leon gave a great deal of thought into his answer. He couldn't plead 'not guilty', because he _had _indeed killed in Europe, even though they were enemies. He couldn't plead 'guilty' because the enemies were not real people, so legally, he hadn't really committed murder. He weighed his two options back and forth until he just became confused.

"Not guilty," Leon replied, choosing an option and hoping for the best. Could he do anything else?

"Ha!" Bernie roared triumphantly from the table he was sitting at. "That's not true, Your Honor," he said, addressing the judge. "What's more, with your permission, I'd like to prove it!"

"Hmm," the judge muttered, thinking the request over. "Well, I suppose that could be permitted, if the defense has no objections..."

The judge, as well as the rest of the courtroom's inhabitants, drew their attention to Arnold, who was occupied with doodling on one of his deposition forms. He noticed the sudden silence and his head rose. He looked around at the anxious faces of the seated people, and then made eye contact with the judge, realizing that they were all waiting on him.

"Oh!" he exclaimed clearing his throat. "No objections."

"Proceed," the judge told Bernie, nodding his head.

Bernie gathered what appeared to be photos from his table and approached the judge.

"Your Honor," Bernie started. "I followed Leon into a village he arrived at in the beginning of his investigation. With my very eyes, he needlessly shot down anybody he questioned that didn't know the answer to the president's daughter's whereabouts. These pictures I took of the corpses prove it," he concluded, handing the photographs to the judge.

"What?" exclaimed Leon. "That's not true!" he argued. "They were possessed by a parasites, and they were attacking me!"

"Silence!" the judge barked, slamming his hammer down. 'Mr. Kennedy, I will not tolerate outbursts in my courtroom. You've told this court that the murder victims were attacking you before you killed them. Do you have any evidence to support this claim?"

Leon opened his mouth to answer, but stopped. The judge had him there; he had no way of contradicting Bernie's accusation.

"No," he said quietly, sighing unhappily. The prosecutor turned his attention back to Leon.

"Mr. Kennedy, just how many of these people did you kill?" he questioned, his gaze piercing right into Leon.

"Eight hundred and twenty-three," Leon said without a moment's hesitation, and realized that statement didn't help him. Most of the people let out surprised gasps; a few of them even fainted.

"My goodness gracious!" exclaimed the judge. "Mr. Kennedy, the evidence against you is overwhelming. If there's nothing else, I'll let the jury reach a conclusion..."

"Wait, Your Honor!" Bernie exclaimed. "I do have more. With you permission, I would like to bring in a man who was with Leon regularly in his investigation, so you can hear _his_ story."

The judge nodded. "If the defense has no objections, I think that would be an excellent suggestion," he agreed.

Once again, there was no immediate response from Arnold. Turning his head, Leon saw that Arnold was no longer doodling on his deposition form. Instead, he was folding it into some form of origami. Once again, Arnold sensed the awkward silence, and suddenly snapped his head up.

"No objections," he said happily. He held up his newly finished origami proudly to the judge. The folded paper resembled a Japanese crane. "Look, it's a birdy!" he exclaimed happily, jiggling the crane up and down, making the bird's wings flap. Leon slapped his forehead with his hand.

"Of all the public defenders, why did the state give me you?" he groaned, deeply irritated.

"Hey, you got me for free, so don't expect much," warned Arnold. "I didn't even graduate from high school. The only qualification for this job is just being alive!" Leon sighed, and he refocused his attention on the judge.

"You may sit down," the judge proclaimed. Leon got up and sat back down next to Arnold.

"Okay, come on up!" Bernie prompted, beckoning towards someone sitting at his table. Glancing at the table, Leon was amazed to see the weapons dealer, the man from which he bought most of his equipment in his investigation, was approaching the judge. He was dressed in a midnight-black hooded cloak, a purple scarf covering all his facial features, save his eyes. The courtroom became quiet as he vowed to tell the truth, took his seat in the witness box, and began recalling the events as he remembered them.

"Well, I remember this stranger striking me as quite an odd fellow, yes indeed," the weapons dealer began in his rough, scratchy voice that contained a British accent. "He was always crimping around, searching for this missing girl. He liked weapons, yes he did. Why, he bought just about every gun I owned during his search-"

"Wait a minute," the prosecutor interjected. "So you're saying that you actually _sold _the accused man the weapons that killed these people?" Everyone regarded the weapons dealer with curiosity. Leon could see the nervousness in the dealer's eyes.

"Er, no, I mean..." the merchant stuttered. "I, uh... I-I've never sold weapons in my life!" he lied. "In fact, I've never even held a gun before," he concluded, getting up from the witness box. He started to walk back to the table, but a hollow clunking sound stopped him dead in his tracks. Leon glanced down at the weapons dealer's feet, where a Killer 7 magnum lay. It had fallen down his cloak.

"Is that thing loaded?" the judge demanded angrily. The weapon's dealer looked absolutely terrified.

"That's not mine! I've never seen it before, I swear!" he insisted, his voice high with panic, throwing his hands up in the air. A Red9 handgun and a TMP automatic pistol then fell out of his robes and landed on the floor next to the Killer 7.

"I've heard enough. Get him out of here!" the judge growled. Two security guards seized the dealer by his arms and dragged him out of the courtroom, the merchant struggling, screaming and kicking all the way. When the racket died down, the judge sighed in irritation and turned his gaze back on Leon.

"That was a complete waste of time," he grumbled angrily. "If there's nothing else, the jury shall deliberate to reach a verdict at this time."

"Yes, _I _have something to say," a strong voice announced somewhere in the audience. Leon turned toward the spectators and saw, with absolute astonishment, that the president had stood up and was facing the judge.

The judge's eyes widened and he nodded his head. "Yes, yes, of course, Mr. President."

The president made his way to the front of the spectators and stood in front of the judge. He was silent for a moment, then spoke up at once.

"Mr. Kennedy is innocent, and I have the proof right here," he stated, digging his hind into his left pocket. Withdrawing his arm, Leon could see that he held a very nice-looking cellular phone in his hand.

"This is my daughter's cell phone. As the judge informed you before the trial began, Leon was sent to Europe to search for my kidnapped daughter, Ashley. When he found her, she took pictures on this cell phone during their ordeal, in the event that she may need them. Many of these pictures depict the murder victims attacking Leon."

The president handed the cell phone to the judge, who scanned through the pictures with wide eyes. "These pictures don't lie," he announced to everyone. "Kennedy was indeed attacked by those that are now deceased."

Leon breathed a deep sigh of relief and slumped deeply into his chair. Glancing at the spectators, he caught Ashley's gaze. She was smiling happily at him, and he returned the smile and silently mouthed the words, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she mouthed back. Leon felt a deep relief wash over him, cleansing him of all his worries and stress. Suddenly he remembered, with great excitement, the documents he had found while searching for Ashley. These would completely ensure his innocence.

"Your Honor, I have something, also!" he exclaimed. The judge regarded him and nodded, encouraging him to continue. "I just remembered, I found these documents in my investigation. They have information on the parasites, the effects of the parasites, and even their plans to dominate the world." He withdrew them from his left hip pocket, unfolding them. Amazingly, they were still legible.

"Bring them here," the judge instructed. Leon did as he was told, the excitement of the thought of being free rose within him, and he tried extremely hard to stay calm. The judge read each document carefully, his expression grave. Several minutes later, he addressed the court.

"Leon Scott Kennedy is free of all charges. These documents support everything Mr. Kennedy told us. The men that were murdered were indeed controlled by parasites, they were controlled by a man named Lord Saddler. This man did indeed plan to take over the world with this cult of mindless puppets, and these documents prove that."

Ashley suddenly stood up and spoke.

"That's right! Leon saved me, as well as the rest of the world! You should be thanking him!" The spectators began to applaud, and their cheers began to fill the silence of the room. Leon beamed as he took in all of his praise. He looked over at Bernie, whose face held an expression of fury and frustration. His hands were clenched into tight fists, and he was breathing very heavily.

"And _you_," Ashley continued, turning her gaze to Bernie. "You need to learn to grow up, mister!" she scolded. "You told us that Leon was a childhood bully, and I think you just put this trial on to get back at him_. Get over it!_" she exclaimed. She turned back to face Leon. "Besides, I'm sure Leon's is sorry for picking on you, aren't you, Leon?" she questioned him.

Leon shrugged. "Not really," he said. There was an awkward pause, and then Ashley continued.

"Well... anyway, that's not relevant to this trial, and furthermore-"

"That's enough, ma'am," the judge said irritably. He refocused his attention to Leon. "Mr. Kennedy, you are free to go. This trial was a complete waste of your time and _my _time, and I apologize for it. I'm sure I speak for everybody when I tell you I can't thank you enough for what you've done for all of us."

First one person began to applaud, then five, then twenty, and within a few seconds, everyone was once again applauding, cheering and whistling for Leon. This display of respect and admiration made him feel light as a feather. In that moment, he decided everything that had happened to him in Europe was worth it, just to hear the American people praising him. He glanced at the table where Bernie sat. He glanced up at the judge who was also clapping and smiling. Leon shook hands again with Arnold, thanking him for his attempt to defend him. He turned his gaze to the president, who saluted him. Leon returned the salute, smiling. Leon then realized that he was free to leave, to go home and resume life in the country that he loved. He got up from his chair and made his way down the isle to the exit, meeting Ashley's eyes. The applause continued to roar in his ears as she made her way towards him.

The applause died down, and Leon ignored all of the "awws" the crowd emitted as Ashley embraced him. He returned the embrace and said quietly into her ear, "Thank you, for everything you've done for me."

She smiled warmly and spoke into his ear. "And thank _you_, Leon, for saving my life. For saving _everybody's _lives."

They broke apart, and Leon realized that this would probably be the last time he would ever see her again. Leon started to back away towards the door.

It's been... interesting," he said with a grin. She smiled and waved good-bye to him. He returned the wave, and then exited the building, the crowd's applause starting back up again, ringing in his ears.

Outside, the weather was just the temperature Leon preferred. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, and the temperature was warm with a slight breeze that tantalized Leon's skin. Leon had taken the weather for granted all of his life, and yet on this day, it was the only thing that he seemed to notice. His freedom could have been taken away from him that day, and he felt like he would never take anything for granted ever again. On either side of him, large skyscrapers towered over him, and cars rushed along in the street to his right. A familiar voice behind him brought him out of his state of nirvana.

"It ain't right, it just ain't right."

Leon turned and faced Bernie Snoogleheimer, who still appeared very angry about Leon's winning the trial.

"I go through the trouble to frame you, and you _still_ walk around a free man. Do you know how hard it was to follow you into Europe? Not to mention staying out of your sights, making sure those possessed things didn't kill me...it wasn't easy, you know. I don't know how you did it, but you slid out of the iron grip of justice."

It was then that Leon noticed that Bernie was standing behind a gigantic puddle infested with mud, filth and muck.

_It's time this guy gets his just deserves..._ Leon thought devilishly to himself. Leon sighed and nodded his head.

"You're right, Bernie," Leon said, putting on an unhappy expression. "I owe you something, buddy. I never was nice to you as a kid. In fact, I was a real jerk to you, and I can understand that you held a grudge against me for all these years, I really can. I just want to tell you how sorry I am for... hey, isn't that a Star Wars fan convention over there?" he asked, pointing over Bernie's shoulder.

"What? _Where?_" demanded Bernie, turning around. Leon quickly shoved Bernie face-first into the puddle, covering the poor man in an ensemble of slime, mud, and gravel. And, as he did in his childhood years, Leon enjoyed a cruel laugh at Bernie's expense, over come by the pure hilarity of his situation.

Turning away form the defeated Bernie, (who made no attempt to get up, deciding rather to wallow in his own humiliation), Leon continued walking down the sidewalk along the street, deciding the best way to get home.

Leon had gone to trial that day, was nearly was convicted as a criminal, and it was all after he had saved the world. However, compared to what he had experienced in the past, today was one of his better days.


End file.
